All Too Final
by DragonKatGal
Summary: *Complete* Set during Tabula Rasa. Buffy learns how to NOT be bitchy and has some nice fluffly moments with Spike. B/S and B/G Friendship.
1. Writing

All Too Final

SETTINGS: During Tabula Rasa.  Giles flight doesn't leave until morning, Buffy hasn't kissed Spike at the Bronze.

DISCLAIMER: Oh how I wish they were mine.  *sighs*

RATINGS: PG-13.  Kattie don't write smut.

EMAIL: katters_s@hotmail.com

SPOILERS: Up to Tabula Rasa.

PAIRING: B/G, B/S (basically I had ideas for two diff fics and figured, why not put em together…much easier)

NOTES: For the convenience of this fic, Giles isn't living in the Summers house when he leaves.

ONWARDS:

CHAPTER ONE: WRITING

It was dark in her room.  She liked it that way though.  The dark was comfortable, familiar.  It was well past midnight and the only light in her room was a soft glow from the streetlamp across the road that shone in through her window.  She had spent six years in the dark, had spent an eternity floating through a peaceful emptiness, and being thrust back into the light had been excruciating.  No one could understand that.  Well, no one except for a neutered vampire who cheated at kitten poker.

And her Watcher.  But he was gone.  Well, not gone yet, but, he was going.  In less than ten hours, he would be on a flight bound for London, never to return to Sunnydale again.  And it hurt her.

She had to admit that the fact that his announcement to leave the country had felt like a kick in the gut had been a bit of a shock.  She hadn't felt anything like that in the two months that she'd been back.  Just seeing him again had almost taken her breath away, but having him leave…it felt like a part of her was being ripped away, and seeing as she didn't feel as though there was that much of her left to take away, it was frighteningly scary.  She had almost resigned herself to the fact that she would never feel anything again.

That she would just go through the motions, pretend to feel things, putting on a smiley face so that her friends wouldn't worry, wouldn't hover, wouldn't cast spells to reverse her memory.  Willow's spell had completely backfired and had almost gotten her killed, and it had just made her hurt even more.  Being confronted with a lifetime of memories, painful, scary, terrifying things had nearly shocked her back into the blissful comatose state she had put herself in after Dawn had been taken by Glory.

She sighed and closed her eyes, willing the painful memories to just disappear.  She wanted to be able to just move on.  To 'get over it'.  The others hadn't understood her moods, hadn't understood her misery until she had told them that she had been ripped from heaven.  And after they'd been told, her best friend had betrayed her even further.

That's all Willow seemed to do lately.  Betray and hurt and lie and manipulate.  

Buffy leant over, and with her eyes still shut, she flicked on the small lamp beside her bed, flinching as the harshness of the light penetrated her closed lids.  She opened her eyes slowly and reached down to open the bottom drawer in the chest next to her bed.  She retrieved a lined notepad and her favourite pen, wondering whether or not this was a good idea.

For the last hour she had been having an internal debate.  To write or not to write.  That is the question.  She had to admit that even though she was hurting, it didn't give her the right to be a complete and utter bitch to the two people that had been nothing but supportive from the very beginning of her third chance at life.

They deserved better, and who was she to try and dictate their lives for them.  She wanted her life to be understood, so she would have to pay them the same courtesy.

And so…she began to write.

------------------------

He wasn't leaving until ten, she knew that much, so when eight o'clock rolled around, she knew she would have to stop writing.  Her hand had become cramped, her writing had changed considerably, no longer the neat and precise cursive writing that had been used from pages one through fifteen, but suddenly a messy scrawl that went from pages sixteen through thirty seven.

Thirty seven pages and she still had the urge to keep writing.  She shrugged when she idly wondered if he would get sick of reading.  She figured that with a flight that would last about twenty hours he could probably use something to read anyway.  For one horrifying second she wondered if he got motion sickness and wouldn't be able to read it on the plane, but then she remembered that this was Giles she was thinking about and he would have been able to read under six feet of concrete.

She knew he wasn't expecting her to be at the airport, knew that he wasn't really expecting her to talk to him ever again, especially when he was leaving because of her, but she knew that Giles deserved so much better than that.  He had sacrificed his life, his happiness so that he could be her Watcher, and if she didn't at least give him a proper goodbye, it showed that she truly had little to no respect for him.

And she did respect him.  She loved him.  She could only truly say that of two people now, and it hurt to admit that.  Dawn and Giles.  The others merely faded into the background.  She resented them.  She was only just learning to tolerate them, and she had to admit it was almost easier now that they had found out about what they had truly done to her.  Before, when Willow had been boasting about how brilliant she was, it had been hard not to hate the girl.  Now that she was hurting and miserable and her life was shattering, it was almost easier for Buffy to begin to like her again.

She rolled off her stomach, stretching her back and flexing the fingers on her right hand.  They were stiff and there was a small half moon mark from where her fingernail had been digging into the skin of her forefinger for too long, but the pain was worth it.  At least she felt something, she mused quietly.

She rolled off the bed and crouched next to her dressing table, searching the bottom drawer for an envelope thick enough for thirty seven pages.  All she found was a second hand manila envelope that looked as though it had seen better days.  After a quick search, she found that the old envelope was the only thing that could possibly hold the pages together.  She gave up the search and slid the pages in, sealing it with a piece of sticky tape.

She ran a tired hand through her hair and stood up, quickly changing her outfit and mentally kicking herself for not trying to get the grass stains out of her pants that had been ruined from last nights fight.  Brushing her hair as she made her way down the stairs, envelope in hand, she made her way into the kitchen, thankful that Dawn's alarm had already woken the teenager up.

"Morning," Buffy greeted, trying not to sound as tired as she felt.

Dawn favoured her with a smile.  It wasn't often that Dawn's older sister made it up in time for breakfast.  In fact, Dawn wondered if Buffy would ever get out of bed if it hadn't been to make sure that Dawn was actually attending school.

"Hey Buff.  You want breakfast?" Dawn offered.

Buffy tried not to scrunch up her nose at the offer and politely declined, settling herself at the counter with half a glass of juice that had become her regular morning indulgence.

Dawn spied the envelope and grabbed at it.

"What's this?"

"Letter to Giles," Buffy explained, not even attempting to grab it back.  She knew there was no point fighting for it when it was the Dawn the Quizmaster opposing her.

"It's thick enough.  How many pages is it?"

"Bout forty," she replied easily.

Dawn just shrugged, knowing that she would never understand the complex nature of her sister.  She had noticed that Buffy had been incredibly hurt and bitter when Giles had been informing the rest of the gang that he was planning on going back to England.  It was no secret that Buffy didn't want him to go.  The rest of the Gang had briefly discussed it and had wanted to tell Giles that he had the worst timing ever, but had thought better of it.

"You gonna post it to him, or you heading to the airport?" 

"Airport.  His plane leaves in two hours, so I gotta find a bus or convince someone to drive me there," Buffy explained.

"You could ask Giles for a lift," Dawn suggested.

Buffy shook her head.  "Far too logical Dawnie.  'Sides, I kinda wanna surprise him before I spurt into my whole apology thing," she said.

"Apology?"

Buffy managed to smile sheepishly as she perched herself on the kitchen bench.

"I kinda went into full bitch mode when he told me he was leaving," Buffy admitted.

Dawn nodded, fully understanding that her sister would be upset with Giles departure announcement.  Dawn had to admit that saying goodbye to Giles the first time had been excruciating.  She had wanted to yell at him, ask him how he could leave her there on her own when she had already lost her mother and her sister.  She didn't understand how he could leave her there with no real adults to look after her.

"Is it just me or do all the guys we know end up leaving," Dawn commented quietly.

That statement hit Buffy hard.  She swallowed her mouthful of juice and just started sadly at her sister.  At least she wasn't the only one to notice that disturbing trend in the men in their lives.

"No, it's not just you," Buffy replied.

Dawn sighed and rinsed out her bowl, leaving it in the sink.  She turned to her sister and smiled brightly, surprising the blonde girl that Dawn could just switch her emotions on and off so quickly.

"Gotta run, don't wanna be late!  Good luck with the whole Giles thing.  Oh, and give him a big hug from me too," Dawn said quickly, giving her sister a peck on the cheek and racing out the door before Buffy could even get in a goodbye.

Buffy smiled softly at her sisters antics and finished her juice, not having enough motivation to jump down off the counter just yet.  She checked the clock on the wall.  8:25.  She wanted to be at the airport at 9:00 so she and Giles could have about forty minutes to talk before he had to board his flight.  

She moved slowly back up the stairs, pulled out a small box from the top drawer of her dressing table and then moved over to her cupboard to find a pair of her most comfortable running shoes.  She figured that if she had been endowed with Slayer strength and speed, she may as well use it once in a while.  With any luck, it would only be a forty minute run to the airport.


	2. Goodbye

CHAPTER TWO: GOODBYE

The run took nearly thirty minutes, and she arrived at the airport at just after nine.  With the envelope still firmly in her hand and the small box still in her pocket, she found the gate his flight was leaving from and positioned herself strategically so she would be able to see him as soon as he had finished with all the security checks.

She fidgeted nervously for over twenty minutes, her fingers tapping incessantly on the envelope, her hand reaching down to her pocket every few minutes to make sure the little box was still there.  She was so caught up in making sure she had everything that she didn't even notice as Giles walked up to her and took a seat beside her.

"Waiting for someone?" came the British voice from beside her.

She jumped at the sound of it, but she looked up and gave a sheepish grin to the familiar face.

"Yeah, something like that," she replied quietly.

They sat in silence for nearly ten minutes, neither one entirely sure where to begin with the conversation that could make or break their entire relationship.  Part of her, the selfish part, wanted to get down on her hands and knees and beg Giles to stay with her.  But she knew that she had no right to even ask him to stay, let alone beg him to.

Giles eventually sighed, the silence between them having finally got to him.

"If you're here to ask me to stay, it won't work," he said, his voice soft, gentle, not accusing her of anything, just stating a fact.

"I know.  I wasn't even gonna ask," she replied.

He saw the envelope in her hand and nodded to it.  

"What's in the envelope?"

She looked down at it, staring at it as though it was the first time she had even seen it.  She shook herself, trying to force herself out of her endless depression.

"Oh, uh…it's…it's for you," she said, handing it to him.

He took it gingerly, peeking inside.  He was astounded by the sheer volume of the pages.  

"You uh…you don't want me to read it before I get on the plane, do you?" he asked.

"What?  No!  You uh…you probably couldn't get through it all.  I uh…I think I kinda went a bit nuts with the whole writing thing.  I…I haven't really been keeping a journal since…since I came back so…it kinda felt good to get some stuff out.  Oh and uh…you hafta forgive me for the spelling mistakes," she joked.

He smiled a little at that and sat the envelope on his lap. 

"Well uh…thank you.  I think," he said quietly.

He hated the uncomfortable silences that sat between them now.  He hated the way that ever since he had first seen his Slayer alive again after five months of her being dead, he hadn't had the faintest idea of what to say to her.  It had hurt him on a level he couldn't understand, and, even though he would never admit it, it was one of the reasons he was leaving.  He couldn't bear being shut out.

"It's uh…kinda long.  And I didn't write it to make you feel guilty or anything I just…"

"Needed to get it out," he finished.

She gave a small smile and nodded, thankful that he still understood her sometimes.

"Flight 841 from Sunnydale to Los Angeles, then continuing on to London is now boarding," a voice over the PA announced.

Giles looked up at the sound, suddenly alarmed.  He had barely said a word to his Slayer in the forty minutes that they had been sitting there.  He needed to explain, needed to make sure she understood that he was leaving so she could continue on with her life without having to rely so much on other people.

Buffy stood up and looked down at him.

"So I guess this is it?" she asked sadly.

He stood up and swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat.  He saw tears forming in his Slayers eyes and held back the urge to wipe them away.

"I guess it is," he agreed.

Buffy hesitated for only a second before stepping forward and putting her arms around his waist.  He hugged her back tightly, thankful that she was endowed with Slayer strength.  Buffy slipped the small box out of her own pocket and into his without him noticing and smiled, thankful that she didn't have to explain giving it to him.

He didn't even complain when she started holding him a little too tightly.  As though she heard the silent thought she eased up the embrace but remained within his arms.  

"We'll miss you," he heard her whisper.

He smiled and stroked her hair gently.

"I'll miss all of you as well."

She sniffled and pulled back, trying to muster up the courage to watch him walk away from her.

"Uh…if I were to call you sometime…even if it's just to talk…you wouldn't mind, would you?" she asked.

He smiled properly at that and kissed her forehead.

"I think I'd be highly offended if you didn't."

She smiled and nodded, wiping away the tears from her eyes.  She bit her lower lip to keep herself from breaking into a bout of sobs.

Giles touched her cheek fondly, reminded of when he had first seen her after she had been brought back.  

"You'll do brilliantly Buffy.  I have every confidence in you."

She smiled and stood on her toes, pecking his cheek.  "I know you do.  Let's just hope that I can find some in me too."

He breathed out a sigh and picked up his carry on bag.

"Goodbye Giles."

"Goodbye."

It wasn't until he had turned the corner of the corridor leading to his plane that Buffy let the tears flow freely.  With a heavy heart she watched as the plane took off.

It took nearly two hours to walk back to her house.


	3. Wait

CHAPTER THREE: WAIT

The sun went down at ten past six and Buffy felt slightly nervous about her next task at hand.  Saying goodbye to Giles had been excruciating, but the next item on her agenda could prove to be just as fatal to her.  Having one friend up and leave was hard, having another leave would be worse than death.  For a third time.

She opened the crypt door slowly, almost expecting Spike to be behind her with a machete.  She vaguely remembered that he had been brandishing one at her during their first conversation after she had been brought back.  He had done most of the talking though.  She wasn't even sure why she had gone there.  But she did know that he had made her feel safe.  He had handled her with such gentleness, such care.  It was something that the Scoobies lacked in.

Spike's head poked through the opening in the floor, the blonde vampire ascending the ladder, crossbow in hand.  He put it down and sighed when he saw who was standing in the entrance to his crypt.

"Slayer," he greeted.

She almost winced at that.  He hadn't called her that in a while.  It was always 'pet' or 'luv' or even her name, but never Slayer.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

Spike paused, contemplating the ridiculousness of that question.

"Uh…how did you put it again?  Vocal chords wise yes, to each other, no."

She did wince at that.  "I have to admit, I deserved that."

He looked a little guilty when he saw the pained look on her face.  He perched himself onto the sarcophagus that was in the crypt and Buffy stood at the end of it.

"So…talk," he said.

She nodded and tried to compose her thoughts together.

"I wanted to apologise," she said.

His eyes widened at that.  He was intrigued.  The great and might Slayer apologising to him.  Satan himself must have been ice-skating.

"For kissing you," she continued.

His gaze darkened.

"Come to tell me you won't stoop down to my level?  That you won't go out with something without a soul?  That you're the Slayer and you're here to kill me," he asked.

"No," she said simply, refusing herself to rise to the bait.

He stopped and his eyes softened a little.  "Oh."

"I just…" she tried to think of the right words to say, words that wouldn't push him away.  Nothing came to mind.  "I can't be with you."

She almost winced at how harsh it came out.  He didn't notice the look of pain on her face at the statement as he whirled around and began pacing angrily.

"Oh, I get it Slayer.  Can't be with good ole Spike.  Just wanna be friends and all that rot.  You come in here all holier-than-you and expect me to accept the worn down excuses of me being evil and soulless and a vampire.  Newsflash luv, I'm not Angelus, never wanted to be.  I don't have a bloody soul and I'm still better than him," he ranted.

She went to interrupt, but he refused to stop.

"Him and his nancy boy hair gel.  Well, let me tell you something Slayer.  Angelus is a right sick bastard, incapable of love.  You're probably thinking 'well, I've shagged one vamp and he turned evil, that means all the others will too.'  Well, I gotta say Slayer, I'm not him."

"I know," she whispered.

"No you don't!" he yelled, finally facing her.  "You don't know.  You don't believe that I love you, you don't believe that I want to be with you.  You think I'm just some pet vamp to string along.  Some kicks on the side.  Well let me tell you right now, I won't play that game."

"I'm not asking you to do that," she said, her voice rising with agitation.

"Well, _what_ the bloody hell are you asking me Slayer?" he yelled.

"I'm asking you to wait!" she yelled back.

There was silence as her final word echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls.  They stared at each other, so unsure of each other.  Spike looked as though he wanted to start fighting, and Buffy looked as though she was torn between joining in for a little 'rough and tumble' or fleeing from his crypt.  Both options were looking pretty good.

"I don't…you want me to…to wait?" Spike managed to get out.

Buffy gave a half smile and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Pretty much."

"For what?"

"Me."

He cocked his scarred eyebrow upwards, staring at her with little to no comprehension of what Buffy had just asked him to do.  That wasn't exactly what he had thought she would say.  He had expected a simple 'leave me alone' or a 'shut up and kiss me' but asking him to wait had thrown him for a loop.

"What are you saying luv?" he asked quietly.

"I'm saying that I'm not ready.  That things with me aren't good at all.  That I need time.  I just…Spike, I had one of the most important people in my life walk out on me today, and…it hurt.  Like, really hurt," she explained.  "And…I worked out that I can feel things.  If I can feel that hurt, then…there's no reason why I can't feel good either.  And…the other night, when I kissed you…it felt good."

Spike smirked at that but immediately wiped the expression off his face.  He hadn't seen Buffy looking so serious, in relation to pondering about him since…well, ever really.

"But…I don't want to hurt you Spike.  I've hurt a whole lot of people cos I was keeping stuff from them."

"Luv, I think you being in heaven constitutes a better description than 'stuff'," he said.

She glared but continued on without commenting on his snide remark.

"Do you…do you remember what I sang.  Outside the Bronze?"

"Sorta."

"This isn't real, but I just wanna feel," she quoted softly.  "I don't…I can't do that.  Not to you.  Not after everything that you've done for me.  You deserve better than that.  I just…I wanna make sure this is real Spike.  Kissing you was the most amazing feeling I've had since I came back and…and I wanna feel like that again, but…I wanna make sure that this thing with you is real.  I can't just use you to make myself feel something."

He stayed silent, wondering how many more surprises this girl was going to pull on him.  He had never met anyone who could keep him guessing like Buffy could.

"So…you want me to wait for you?  Like back off until you know what you want?"

"I don't want you to back off.  I….Spike, I…I like where we're at.  As friends.  I like where we're heading, but…I'm not ready to be what you want me to be," she said.

"What I want-"

"Spike, you were with Dru for over a century.  I get that if you're gonna do this, it's gonna be a forever type of deal," she said.

Spike just looked at her, completely dumbfounded.  He had just yelled at this girl for not understanding him, when really, she understood him better than she let on.  He had a feeling that a year ago, she would never have wanted to have that kind of an understanding for him, but here she was, explaining that she knew what she would be in for if they were ever to get together.

"I just…could we just…be friends?" she asked timidly.

Spike still couldn't believe what was going on.  He stepped towards her and was comforted when she didn't back away.  He brought his hand up to her cheek and caressed it gently.  He moved forward and kissed her other cheek softly.

"Yeah luv," he whispered softly, bringing her towards him to hug her.  "We can be friends."


	4. The Letter

CHAPTER FOUR: THE LETTER

Giles had sat with the envelope on his lap for nearly an hour, staring at the single word written on the front of it.  'Giles'.  Her words to him.  His peek into the envelope at the airport had told him how much his Slayer had to say to him, and he had been a little shocked by the sheer volume of it.  He had been lucky to get more than a few sentences out of her, even in regards to a demon let alone about anything personal.

Sighing, Giles ordered a glass of scotch from the drinks cart and after gulping it down, found the courage to open the envelope.  The woman sitting next to him looked at him curiously.

"I was wondering if you would open that," she said quietly.

He looked up at her, startled by the almost brazen comment.  Of course, she was American, so it shouldn't have really surprised him at all.  She looked to be a little younger than he, an attractive brunette woman with straight hair and a button nose.

"I uh…I'm a little nervous actually," he admitted.

She smiled kindly at him.  "From a girlfriend?"

"No.  My…my daughter really," he said.  _Daughter_.  The Council had forbidden him to grow even slightly attached to his Slayer, and she had ended up becoming the daughter he had never had a chance to have.  And he was so very proud of her, of who she had been.  Of who she could be if he wasn't there to take every step for her.

The woman smiled again.  "How old is she?"

"Twenty, nearly twenty-one," he replied.

"They grow up fast, don't they?" she asked.

Too fast, he thought.

Giles just nodded, not wanting to disagree with her.  A cascade of memories poured through him.

_Giles…I'm sixteen.  I don't wanna die._

He had wanted to prevent it from happening.  He had been ready to go in her place and he almost had.  But she had gathered her strength and her courage and had gone to meet her destiny.  It had cost her life, but she hadn't been alone as so many Slayer's had been before.  Xander had found her and revived her. 

_I realise that every Slayer comes with an expiration date on the packet.  But I want mine to be a long time from now.  Like a Cheeto._

She had said that and had died only a few months later.  Her flippant words had cut into him as they did every time they had discussed the possibility of her death.  It hadn't been a regular topic though, no one in the Gang had liked discussing it and Buffy herself had tried not to think of it at all unless she absolutely had to.

_Hey, I've died twice._

Giles had smiled to keep himself from crying.  Yes, she had died twice.  And now, she was dying a third time because she wouldn't step up and take care of herself.  

_Yeah, I'm pretty spry for a corpse._

He hated the jokes she made about her death.  The post post-mortem comedy as she had once labelled it.  She had always used levity to cope with things, but joking about the worst six months of his entire life was just a little too distasteful for Giles.  He had understood her need for it though.

_Hate suffering…had about as much of it as I can take._

Her words, so angry, so full of pain, and yet so very hollow as well.  He had wanted to stay, and he would have said yes if she had begged him a little more.  He hated refusing her anything, especially now.  And walking away from her was painful, more painful than he had imagined it would be.  It hurt him right through his soul.

"Is she in England or California?" the woman asked, breaking Giles out of his trip down memory lane.

"California," he replied regretfully.  "I wish she was coming with me."

She smiled and patted his hand kindly.  "I know what you mean.  My son's in England whish is why I'm going there.  It hurts but…they have to make their own way eventually.  No matter how much we don't want to let them go," she said with a smile.

He smiled at that, understanding all too well.  He didn't want to let go of Buffy and her friends.  He desperately wanted to stay but he knew he was doing the right thing.  He could only hope that Buffy would agree with him.  He looked down at the letter in his hands again and sighed, wondering if he would soon find out what his Slayer truly felt about his leaving.  

"Well, good luck with that thing," the woman eventually said, giving him permission to withdraw from their conversation and read to his hearts content.  Giles was inordinately grateful for the reprieve.

He shuffled the papers and finally began to read.

_Dear Giles,_

_It's funny how I've never even once called you Rupert.  In the six years I've known you, it never even occurred to me to call you that.  You have and always will be Giles to me._

_Six years.  It's hard to believe, isn't it?  It feels like a lifetime, though six years is probably two lifetimes for a Slayer, huh?  I've always wondered how long the longest Slayer lived…any ideas knowledge guy?_

_Hey, I meant to ask…what does the Council think about all of this?  The me coming back thing?  There wasn't a new Slayer called was there?  Cos of Faith?  I wonder how she is…Would the Council ever just kill her to get a new Slayer?  No, wait…I already know that.  Remember when Faith and I switched bodies?  The Council ordered 'the kill', so I get the impression that they liked her even less than I did.  I only just got out of that._

_You know, before I met Quentin Travers, I thought that all of the Watchers were as wonderful as you and Merrick.  Then came Wes.  Poor guy.  I think I owe him an apology for all the crap I put him through when he tried to take over.  It's not like it was his fault that he wasn't you._

_I wonder what'll happen now.  I mean…does the Council even know I'm back?  Do I hafta have a new Watcher?  Cos, honestly, I don't think I'd wanna hafta break a new Watcher in.  'Sides, he'd never be anywhere near as good as you.  If the Council wants to send someone, tell em not to bother.  I'll keep slaying, but I don't want a Watcher who isn't you._

_Geez…I'm like a page in and I'm no where near getting to the point of this letter.  If there is a point at all.  I think there was one at one stage, but it mighta got lost somewhere.  It's meant to be a thank you and an apology all wrapped up in one._

_I should probably do the apology thing first though, huh?  I don't think I can ever say it properly.  How do you tell the man that means everything to you that you're sorry for about sixty million things without it sounding fake or forced.  Cos it's not fake and it's not forced.  I am sorry.  For so many things._

You hauled ass back from England expecting to see your Slayer and instead you pretty much got a broken shell of someone you once knew.  I wish I could have been her for you.  I tried so hard, but…your Slayer's dead Giles.  And what's left of her is really a bit of a joke. 

_It's funny really.  It took me dying for a second time before I got a proper death wish.  Before I jumped though…I hafta admit, I kinda wanted out.  I think you knew that as well.  When we were talking in the training room just before I died, when I was talking about the choices we hafta make…I think I knew that I wouldn't be able to walk away from this battle.  I think I knew that if Dawn died, I would too.  But I found a way around it.  I guess that didn't matter to the Gang though._

_Remember how the Spirit Guide told me that death was my gift.  It wasn't about me killing demons or anything like that.  I think it was meant to be a gift to me.  That I finally got an out.  That I was finally done with this godforsaken place.  That I could finally have everything finished.  And I wanted it.  Desperately._

_Don't get me wrong, I love you and I love my sister.  I loved my friends, but honestly…it wasn't enough.  It still isn't enough.  I'm struggling to think of reasons to even get up in the mornings.  And…if it weren't for Dawn, I wouldn't have stuck around.  I wouldn't have lasted a week._

_You know…I just read over the last few paragraphs and I just noticed something.  'I loved my friends'.  Loved, past tense.  I'm beginning to wonder if I hate them for what they did to me.  I think I do.  Or Willow at least.  I heard that fight you had with her the first night you were back.  When you said you trusted her above the others to make sure that nothing happened.  _

_I can almost forgive the others.  Xander and Anya probably had no idea what they were getting into.  They probably didn't realise what could go wrong.  And I get that they thought I was in hell, it's kind of a fair enough assumption.  I mean, I jumped into a portal so, I guess I get why they thought that, but…Will and Tara are witches, and…surely there's a way to contact the dead or something.  I mean…if they can bring me back, couldn't they have tried to contact me or something.  Like with a séance or something? _

_Woah…tangent much?  I **was** apologising._

_I'm sorry about what I said to you at the shop before the whole memory reversal thing.  You aren't wrong to be going.  I get why you are and deep deep deep down, I do understand.  I really can't blame you for wanting to leave.  I'd leave me too if I could._

_I probably owe you an apology for threatening to kill you, huh?  I mean, telling you that I would do anything to anyone who laid a finger on Dawn was a little over the top, but…I was a little crazed that night.  I think I was channelling your inner Ripper.  I was terrified of losing her.  And, honestly, I probably would have killed every single person in the world if they tried to take Dawn from me.  Even you if I had to.  I never would have forgiven myself, but I would have done it._

_I'm sorry for the six years of crap I've put you through.  I'm sorry for Jenny.  I'm sorry for not having the strength to kill Angelus when I had the chance.  It would have simpled things up so much.  I'm sorry I ran away.  It's funny really.  I would have thought I could never feel that low ever again, but I was so incredibly wrong.  Where I'm at now…tops it, hands down.  Back then, it hurt to be in Sunnydale.  Now, it just hurts, no matter where I am or what I do._

_I'm sorry for the year before last when I left you out of things.  One time you tell me you can't help me and I hold it against you for an entire year.  Definitely not mature.  I guess I kinda took the childish approach of taking your words to the extreme even when you apologised for them.  _

_I'm sorry for taking you for granted.  I guess I was just trying to not deal with everything.  Not very mature, huh?  I'm right here in Sunnydale, and I'm still running away from everything._

_Did you know I haven't cried since I've been back?  Kinda sucky really.  I wish I could cry again.  So…if I don't cry at the airport, it's nothing personal._

_I'm hoping that you've kinda got the whole "I'm sorry" thing.  Cos…well, I'd be able to write about fifty other incidents that I should be apologising for, but then this letter would just be enormous. _

_Onto the thank you's then.  God, I don't even know where to start.  The beginning I guess.  _

_Thank you for being my Watcher.  Thank you for not letting me walk away from you that first day in Sunnydale.  You knew I'd be back though, didn't you?  You'd known me for a day and already there was something between us._  

Thank you for your friendship, for your guidance, for your loyalty.  Thank you for putting your heart above all else and thank you for teaching me how to do the same thing.  Before I died, you told me you were proud because I could put my feelings above everything else, but…really, it was only cos of you that I could even do that. When I met Kendra, I kinda had to wonder what was so different between she and I.  And I knew that the difference had been you.  I saw how you were with her, and I knew that you sort of wished that I could be more studious, more dedicated, but…at the same time, I knew that you didn't want me to be anything like her.  When she first came here, she was just a complete slaying machine.  And that's what the Council wanted, isn't it?  For the Slayer to just be their perfect little automatons that could kill things with their bare hands.  So thank you for not letting me become like that. 

_Thank you for never blaming me for what happened to Jenny.  Thank you for your support and your respect that you unswervingly offered to me, even when I didn't deserve it.  Thank you for staying with me even though you were free to leave after Travers fired you.  Thank you for never letting me do this alone, even though that's how it was always meant to be.  You and me against the world.  I think I lasted much longer cos of the others.  Hell, they're the reason I'm back._

_Giles…I love you.  I wish I had told you that more often.  And even though I know you probably won't approve but…I think I'm falling for Spike.  I know, I know, another vampire, but…Giles…I think I might love him._

Giles pulled off his glasses and wiped his eyes.  He had known that there was something building between his Slayer and the peroxided Vampire.  He could only hope that Buffy's trust would not be broken and that her heart would not be torn out as it had with Angel.

He sighed and put the letter back into the envelope, knowing he would finish it when he returned to his flat.  For now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and pray that his Slayer would find her way.


End file.
